Here's a poem by Matthea Harvey from The Canary #5 2006:
Estamos En Vivo, No Hay Alternativo
Down here in the land of slammed doors,
the factory puffs its own set of clouds
into the sky. Fake larks fly through
them, lifelike. Let's not go into contractions
of can't and won't or how behind the line of trees,
the forest is gone. Dip that tiny brush into
your paintbox and mix up something nice
and muddy for me. We've got a lock
on the moon so now it goes where we want it--
mostly proms, sometimes lobbies.
This is my favorite sign: "Live girls, live action!"
and in smaller but still flashing lights:
"girl on girl, girl on _____." Among the permutations,
there's no "girl on hands and knees begging for her life."
No one we know wants it that badly.
Estamos En Vivo, No Hay Alternativo
Down here in the land of slammed doors,
the factory puffs its own set of clouds
into the sky. Fake larks fly through
them, lifelike. Let's not go into contractions
of can't and won't or how behind the line of trees,
the forest is gone. Dip that tiny brush into
your paintbox and mix up something nice
and muddy for me. We've got a lock
on the moon so now it goes where we want it--
mostly proms, sometimes lobbies.
This is my favorite sign: "Live girls, live action!"
and in smaller but still flashing lights:
"girl on girl, girl on _____." Among the permutations,
there's no "girl on hands and knees begging for her life."
No one we know wants it that badly.
Comments